Geese
by ALetteredWoman
Summary: Just a lazy day at the lake for Sam and Dean. Until Dean decides to feed the geese, that is.


Dean reached into the cooler for another beer. It was one of those rare days when they had no inkling of a case, anywhere. No vamps, no werewolves-lycanthropes, he corrected himself-,no demons causing mischief. It was also one of those rare times when he and Sam were totally in synch, no super-secret thing dividing them and making them snarly with each other. So they had decided to stop at a small lake and laze in the sun, beer in the cooler, sandwiches at hand.

Sam had a brought a bag of bread, "In case there are ducks." There were ducks, paddling slowly through the water, wakes rippling out from them sparkling in the sunlight. Sam was carefully tearing slices of bread and tossing them out into the water; a duck would catch sight, start after the white object floating in the water, and other members of the flock would lazily turn and paddle after the first. They would end up in a quacking huddle, fighting over the bread. Then Sam would toss another piece in, and the whole scene would repeat.

There were bigger birds further out. Sam wasn't tossing bread to them.

"Here, gimme some of that stuff," Dean said, grabbing the bread bag. Sam held on.

"Hey! Get your own!" Dean pulled harder.

"That's what I'm trying to do, bitch!"

Sam glared. "Jerk!" He clutched the bag tight, and the two tugged at the bag until it split, spilling bread slices over the pebbles of the shoreline.

"Aw, Jeez, Why'd you do that, Dean?" Sam huffed, getting out of his chair and crouching down to corral slices.

"You're ignoring those guys out there! It's not fair!" Dean gestured out to the paddling flock of larger white birds, while grabbing some bread for himself. Sam glanced at them, then turned to look at Dean.

"Dude. Those are geese. Don't-"

Dean carefully pitched a few blobs of bread directly into the center of the group of birds.

"-feed them." Sam sighed, and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Dammit. That's done it. Don't you know about geese?" He frowned grimly into space. "We had geese on the Stanford campus," he said ominously.

"Dude. They're just birds. Hey, look, they're coming this way!" They were. Ten of them, paddling gently towards the two men on the shoreline, honking and gathering speed as they neared.

"Just birds." Sam shook his head. Dean was tossing bread faster and faster. The geese would pause to gobble it down, then kept coming. Then they were waddling out of the water, headed directly toward him.

It was when the closest geese started stretching their necks to peck the bread out of Dean's arms that he began to realize Sam might have a point. They were honking at him. Hissing. Loudly. All ten of them were circling him and trying to reach the bread. He began backing away, slowly at first, then faster.

"Hey! Hey, you! Idiot birds! Shoo! Get away!" He flapped his empty hand at them, and half the geese turned beady black eyes in that direction instead, and tried to nip at it.

Sam was useless: he was curled up in his folding chair, laughing.

"Dude! Some help, here!" Dean was panicking, moving backwards, aiming toward the car, kicking out now and then to fend off the birds. Sam just howled louder, thumping the am of his chair. One of the geese, frustrated, darted its head at Dean's leg, and nipped. Others quickly joined it. Dean stumbled over one that had positioned itself directly behind him, and dropped the remaining bread. The feral flock gobbled the slices down so fast that he had a brief, glorious hope that some of them would choke, but no such luck. As soon as the last bread was gone, shiny black eyes focused on him like lasers, and the demanding honking began again.

"Son of a bitch! Don't you evil things ever stop?! You're worse than zombies!"

He backed into Baby's trunk. Three geese snaked their heads forward, nipping. He edged sideways towards the door, digging out the car keys. One of the geese pecked at the keys, and Dean dropped them.

"GodDAMMIT! Sam! _Sammy_! Get your ass over here and _HELP ME_!" Dean roared, desperate. He squatted down to retrieve the keys, sheltering his head from the geese with one arm, shuffling his hand around in the gravel. The honking was deafening at this level. He grabbed the keys, darted to the front door, unlocked it, and dove in, slamming the door behind him.

He peered out the window, eyes wide, to see five angry geese hitting the window with their beaks. Behind them was Sam. He wasn't trying to shoo the birds away. Oh, no. He had his phone out. He was taking video of the whole damned thing. And laughing. And wiping away the tears.

Oh, he was going to get him good, one of these days!

The geese tired of their attack in a few minutes, and a few turned toward Sam, eyeing him intently. He quickly stuffed the phone back in his pocket, and dove for the passenger door.

Dean briefly considered locking it.

"That is _so_ going up on YouTube," Sam laughed as he slammed his door shut.

"Gimme that thing!" Dean said grimly, trying to grab Sam's phone. Sam squirmed around so his pocket was out of reach, pushing him away. After a few more attempts, with a whap on Sam's head, just because, Dean gave up, vowing to delete the video when he had a chance.

Later in the day, long after the geese had dispersed, they finished up their last beers, packed the chairs and cooler into Baby's trunk, and clambered in to head back to their motel.

Sam slouched back on the car seat, eyes closed. "So, did you know that birds are descended from dinosaurs, and that T-Rex had feathers?" he asked drowsily. "Just imagine a flock of geese the size of semis!"

Dean's eyes widened in horror at the thought, and he shuddered. "Evil, man. That's just evil."


End file.
